


Memories

by Loveforthestory



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-12 21:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9091594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loveforthestory/pseuds/Loveforthestory
Summary: 'She tries to ignore it. She doesn't want to find what's waiting for her in his eyes. But she has. She can sense it, hidden in his smug smile and the way his arrogance and crudeness try to push her away before his eyes always pull her back.'





	1. Chapter 1

The attic is filled with soft afternoon light and the scent of books and memories from the past. The day is slowly fading. The sky is filled with the pale light of winter. 

The war is over. December is almost over. And here she is, in the attic of the house her mother grew up in, in the middle of a small town in Texas.

She is trying to find something, _anything,_ that connects her to her past and the life that was hers when she was so much younger. Charlie needs to know if someone left something here that belongs to her as well. Her heart needs to know that there is more than war and impossible long days.

With every new day she spends with Miles or Bass, she remembers more. She keeps asking herself the same questions about who they are and how life changed them into the men who became a part of her life again.

Because she remembers. She remembers Miles. She remembers Bass. She remembers them and how much they had been a part of her life when everything had been so different. She remembers her old home and her life in a city filled with tall buildings that had touched the sky.

She can almost touch the memories, but they are so far away. But a part of them, who they were and who she was, have survived. Her heart needs to know that the memories she carries with her are real.

They are all building their lives again now the war is over and the continent is trying to breathe again. Connor came back to Bass and all of them and met someone. He is happy and she is happy for him. Her mother and Miles are trying to find a way to be together, but guilt is never far behind. Aaron is living in a small house in town with Priscilla. New life is on the way for them and they are expecting their first child in the first warm days of spring.

And then, her thoughts flow to _him._ They flow to wide shoulders and a black leather jacket. There is someone who knows about war and loss and impossible days. She can see it in the way he hides it behind the steel blue of his eyes and the tension in his shoulders. She can sense it behind the wall of his smug smile and the way his arrogance and crudeness try to push her away before his eyes always pull her back.

She tries to ignore it. She tries to ignore the fact that Bass knows about things that will never be the same and her loneliness. But she can't. It is his loneliness too. She can sense it. He is telling her his story with his eyes when nobody else is watching them.

He is still him. She is still her. But something is happening when their eyes and lives stay connected. They have been fighting their war against the patriots together, both because of their own reasons and reasons they shared. They still barely talk. There are insults and sharp looks when his eyes find hers. But there is also more. She doesn't want to find it, there in his eyes. But she has.

Her thoughts are filled with his eyes when Charlie slowly lets her fingers move over the covers of dusty books. And then, she finds an almost forgotten small wooden box. The last light of the day flows through the attic when she opens it. The box is filled with pictures from her old life in Chicago and her family's life in Jasper. _Her father. Her mother. Danny_. They are all there.

She doesn't know how the box ended up all the way here in Texas. Maybe her mother had taken these pictures with her when she had visited her parents here in Willoughby. Maybe the blackout had made her forget about the box and the memories inside. It doesn't matter. It is here.

And there, on a late afternoon on a long winter day, she finds the picture she didn't know she was looking for. She has to swallow the tears away that ambush her when she looks at the picture she is holding in her hand. Familiar eyes look at her. New faces and honest smiles greet her. They feel strangely familiar too. And when she turns the picture in her hand, a smile she did not know she had in her caresses her lips and plays with her eyes. Because there on the back of an old photograph, her father's familiar handwriting finds her through time.


	2. Chapter 2

When Bass opens his front door, he feels like hell. It's cold and dark when he walks inside. He doesn't care. He shared a bottle of whiskey with Connor in town. He had looked at him, while Connor had held his glass of whiskey in his hand. He had seen a part of Emma. He had seen a part of himself. His kid has met someone and can't stop smiling like a moron when he mentions her. He has met her. It's a sweet girl.

He can see how much Connor cares about her. He's proud of his kid. He wants Connor to have a home. A family. Kids. He doesn't want an empty life for him. But Connor's happiness hurts. He knows it is pathetic. But when he looks at his kid and all the possibilities ahead of him, his old life, _his parents, home, Jasper, Emma, Miles_ , is too damn close.

Miles had joined them. Another bottle had been opened. Charlie hadn't been there. Bass had stared at the door of the bar more than he should have, every time someone walked inside. But she hadn't joined them.

Bass has barely seen her the past couple of weeks. He knows why. He understands. He knows how much these winter months are hurting her. He knows how she is struggling to find a life that is hers after everything that has happened. She has been through hell and back. She is strong as hell. But he can see it in her eyes. It hurts. It hurts too damn much. He knows.

And he knows he shouldn't care about her like he does. He knows he shouldn't feel what he feels for her. Hell, he misses being on the road with her, when it had been just the two of them. He will never tell her and she will never believe him when he would.

He wants to be there for her but at the same time he has to push her away when she gets too close. When he hears his own damn voice and insults when he talks to her, he fucking hates himself. But he can't stop. He longs for the days he had only seen loathing and burning hate for him in her eyes.

Bass throws his jacket on the couch. He moves his hand over his face when more misery finds him and her eyes are too close. He needs more fucking whiskey. The only sound that fills his living room, are the sounds of his boots on the old wooden floor.

And then, on his way to the kitchen and a bottle of whiskey, he sees it. It's waiting for him on the table close to the fireplace. It's a white envelope. He walks to the table. His hand moves to the faded paper of the envelope. He hesitates before he opens it. When he finally does, he can feel how everything he has tried to push away for years, ambushes him.

The picture inside the envelop makes his chest fill with raw edges and a burning warmth. Because there they are. All of them. His mother's strength and gentle eyes. His father's grin. His little sisters, close to him, smiling and filled with youth and eagerness to live their lives. Miles and Ben are standing next to him, with beers in their hands and proud grins on their faces.

They are smiling. Life had been so different, there in the living room of the home he misses so much. And he remembers. He remembers all of them. And for one moment, he is home again.

When he holds the picture and memory in his hand, his old life, his family, the friendship and the love that is still somehow there, finds him through time. It's sharp unexpected warmth. A smile appears on his face. It brushes his lips, before it flows to his eyes. Even in the dark, it adds more intensity to the blue in his eyes.

When he turns the picture around in his hand, Ben's handwriting is waiting for him. And he has to swallow away the start of tears, love and regret when he sees what's written on the picture. _Dinner with beers and family, Jasper._

And he knows. He just knows that there is only one person who could have placed this picture on his damn table. There is only one person fucking brave enough to give him what she just gave him. There is only one woman, who would be able to look beyond old pain and hate and the past and give him what she just gave him. It's Charlie. _It's her._

He swallows while he soaks up the young smiles of his sisters, his parent's love, Ben's kindness and Miles grin. He stares at the picture. He doesn't notice the cold, empty room around him while his thoughts flow back to Charlie. He knows he is probably the last one she wants to see. He knows it is late. But he also knows, he has got to see her.


	3. Chapter 3

It's late when she finally walks up the steps of her porch. When she is about to open her front door, she recognizes the heavy sound of his boots on the porch behind her. She knows who is standing behind her. And she knows, he has found the picture.

With the picture still in her hand in an attic filled with late afternoon light, she had known that the picture belonged to Bass. He never talks about his family. Miles never mentions them. She has always been able to sense that there is too much pain to ask the questions she wants to ask.

But when she had looked at the picture, she had known she had been looking at his family. She had recognized him inside his mother's strength and his father's kind smile. She had seen his love for his family.

He had looked so much younger. He had not carried as much with him as he does know. He had stood there, together with his family. With Miles. With her dad. Her dad and Miles had looked so young and so different. But she had recognized them. All of them. There had been boyish grins on their faces and beers in their hands.

Charlie had looked at Miles' face. She had recognized the necklace he is still wearing. She had looked at her dad and Bass, standing side by side. Their grins had been filled with kindness and pride. And she had realized, truly and fully realized, their story had started before the day Neville had walked into her sheltered life in Wisconsin.

They were family once. They were whole once. There used to be love. Friendship. _Family_. And she had been part of that family.

She did not know how to tell Bass what she had found on a winter afternoon in an almost forgotten box. It had felt too personal. Her eyes finding his when she would give the picture to him would be too much, too raw.

Standing in the middle of a silent attic, she had known she would be able to give Bass something she wasn't sure she could ever give to him. And Bass might be an asshole and tell her she is a mini Miles, but Ben Matheson is also a part of who she is. It is what her father would have wanted. It is how he raised her. But even more than that, it is what she believes in.

She had looked at the picture one more time. Her fingers had slowly followed her father's handwriting, moving over the words her father had written on the back of the picture before she he had put the memory in a white envelope.

When midnight had been close, she had walked into town. Under the cover of the Texan night, she had seen them through the window of the one decent bar in town that had the best whiskey. Bass was sitting at the bar with Miles and Connor. They had been sharing a bottle of whiskey. They had looked relaxed.

She hadn't walked into the bar. She had walked to Bass' house across town. It had been dark inside his house. It had felt empty, like the hollow pain she finds in his eyes when he doesn't know she is looking at him. She had walked to his kitchen table and she had carefully placed the envelope on the table before she had closed his door behind her.

And now he is here, standing on her porch. He is standing right behind her. If she moves, she knows his leather jacket will brush against hers. She can smell the whiskey on his breath. She can take in the scent of his leather jacket. His body feels impossibly tall and wide, so close to hers. She is not sure what will happen next, and it makes her heart beat with wild uncertainty.

Bass looks at her while he follows her movements. Her fingers are close to the knife she still carries with her, flowing against the lines of her hip. He knows it is a reflex. He knows it is the fighter and warrior inside of her responding to the sound of his boots that has broken the silence of the night. He knows that she knows it's him. She still has not told him to go to hell.

She surprises both of them when she doesn't take a step back and away from him. She is close. He curses silently in his own head.

'Thank you,' His voice is deep and low in the night.

He swallows. She gave him that picture. She gave him a part of his old life. But she also gave him more. She gave him so much that he doesn't even know how to tell her what she gave to him. And all he can give her are these two words.

Charlie can feel the raw, hoarse honesty in his words. The low vibration of his voice makes it impossible to think. She just absorbs the way his words find a way to her heart, even though she promised herself she would never let him close to her heart. She is not sure what to say to him. And then he slowly moves towards her. He presses a warm and slow kiss against her temple. She almost melts against his chest without realizing it and at the same time she freezes, unable to move. Her mouth is dry. His scent is close, his chest is close. His lips are warmth and his breathing brushes against her skin.

The night around them fades. And even although his lips are not connected to the warmth of her skin anymore, she is still standing in the shadow of his tall body.

Bass isn't sure he can move. He can still taste the warmth of her skin on his lips. Her fingers brush against his. He isn't sure how the hell it happens, but it does. He can feel the warmth of her hand against his. He knows he has to let her go now. She already gave him enough.

He slowly steps away from her. She doesn't look at him while he slowly turns around. The darkness around her house is waiting for him. After standing so close to her, the darkness of the night feels lonely. Bass moves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He doesn't look back. When Charlie sees him walk of the steps of her porch with his hands deep in the pocket of his jacket, she knows she is not letting him walk back into the Texan night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your reviews and kudo's. I love working on this story and I always appreciate and love hearing from you. I am working on chapter 4 and I am going to return to 'Hidden in the forest'. Love from Love


	4. Chapter 4

When Bass walks into the darkness of the Texan night, Charlie knows she won't walk inside her home alone tonight.

'Aaron gave me a bottle of whiskey. Interested?' She surprises herself with her question.

They both know this isn't about a bottle of whiskey. Her voice in the heavy silence of the night fills his chest with all the things he tried to push away.

Charlie waits. An unexpected wave of uncertainty flows through her body when Bass doesn't turn around. She can see the tension in his jaws. When his eyes connect with hers and the pale light of the moon above them reveals the burn in his eyes, her next breath is filled with everything she finds in his eyes.

He doesn't stay a word. Bass knows he should go home. He knows he shouldn't be here, accepting whatever it is that she is offering. He knows he is being fucking stupid. But he can't stop what's happening inside of him when she is standing on her porch in the middle of the night and her eyes connect with his. All he can see now, is her, standing there with her strength while the moonlight brushes her face. Without looking away from her he just nods. He starts walking back to her.

He follows her inside her home. They don't talk. She doesn't look at him while she closes the door behind them. Bass knows he is staring at her like some damn moron. _Fuck._ He swallows. He stares at her wooden floor before he is able to look at her again.

Charlie takes off her leather jacket. Her living room is suddenly filled with _him_. Charlie can feel it swirl inside of her but she decides to ignore it because thinking about why she feels the way she feels is too much to think about with Bass so close. She walks into her kitchen to get two glasses and a bottle of something they both need now. Bass starts a fire without even asking her.

When she is in the kitchen, Bass looks around. The light of the fire in the fireplace adds nightly light to her small living room and the couch on the other side of the fireplace. A round wooden table is standing close to the kitchen. A small hallway leads to her bedroom. Her crossbow is leaning against the wall close to the door. This is the first time he is here. _Hell_ , this is the first time he is alone with her since they walked from Vegas to Texas.

It feels like a lifetime ago when he used to fall asleep with her sitting close to him after she had decided she would take him back to Miles and she had stopped trying to kill him. It feels like a lifetime ago when she fell asleep, curled up next to their fire, _and him_ , surrounded by the shadows of the trees and the night around them.

When Charlie walks back into the room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey in her hand, he follows her with his eyes. She sits down on her couch. He joins her and tries to make sure there is space between her and him. She offers him a glass of whiskey. His fingers crave to feel the cool glass. He lets the whiskey burn in the back of his throat. They watch the flames of the fire in the fireplace. They drink in silence.

Charlie can see the hesitation and tension in the way he holds his glass. She remembers the picture that has been hidden in an almost forgotten box in an attic, even without holding in her hands. She wants to know what the story is behind those honest smiles and the happiness locked inside the picture. She takes a deep breath before she slowly breathes out.

'Tell me about them… ' Her voice is soft and strong at the same time. She looks at him and all the emotions that fill his eyes. They are so strong that she can almost feel them herself.

Bass' chest fills with heavy emotions that start a wave of pain and slow deep panic deep inside of him. It's the first time someone asks since Miles left everything they had built together in Philly. He can't remember the last time he has talked about the people he carries with him like the scar on his arm that hides the symbol for how much his family means to him.

But then something else happens. Her courage to ask him the question that still fills the whole damn room with the respect that is hidden in her words, adds a new kind of warmth to old pain.

For one moment Charlie regrets asking what she just asked him. The blue in his eyes feels darker. His wide shoulders are filled with steel tension. His eyes fill with haunted pain. But then she notices that something more is happening in his eyes. She waits. And then Bass starts talking.

'My mom loved it when the house was filled with people.' His voice is low, his breathing inside his chest feels heavy when he mentions the woman that raised and loved him with her strength and love. His heart feels full and heavy at the same time while he talks about his father who taught him so much about life and family.

Charlie just listens. The nightly sounds outside her home barely reach them. The town outside is quiet. All that she hears and all that matters is his low voice and a piece of his life and memories he is willing to share with her.

Bass doesn't know how it happens, but he tells her about the night the picture she gave to him was taken. He tells her about his father and his mother and the home they build for him. He tells her about his father and the way he had always been there. He tells her about Angela and Cynthia. He tells them about his two sisters and how he almost killed the first guy that broke Angela's heart. He can feel her smile next to him when he shares that memory. He tells her about Jasper, his home and the strength of his family. He doesn't know why, but she keeps listening to him while the worst of the pain subsides and he is able to reach real memories that are filled with light in the middle of dark memories.

When he finally has the balls to look at her and his eyes search for hers, there is only her strength and empathy waiting for him. There is no loathing. There is no hate.

'Did Miles spend a lot of time with your family?'

Bass nods before he puts his glass of whiskey to his mouth. He needs the slow burn of the whiskey that fills his chest. 'He did. His dad.. after all the things he saw in the war.. it changed the man he was.'

When Bass talks, she listens. She realizes how much she needs the answers he is giving to her. She never heard these things about Miles. She knows Miles can't and doesn't talk about certain things. Miles never mentions his own father. She knows his home wasn't the home Bass had when they grew up together in Jasper.

She takes a sip from her drink. Bass starts to talk about the home Miles grew up in. He tells her about Miles' father, _her grandfather_ , and how much demons he was facing too.

'It changed him. It changed Miles.' Bass is unable to hide his pain for his brother from her. He remembers how much Miles struggled with his father. He remembers how much hidden pain he could always see inside of Miles.

It hurts, having to listen to what Miles' life was like when he was so young. But it also makes her understand more about the man that returned to her life years after the blackout. Her thoughts flow to Jasper. They flow to Miles. They flow to her father and how they grew up, together with Bass in a small town when the world had been so different. And for one second, her heart hurts with the wish to be a part of that life, if the world had not changed the way it did.

Bass takes the bottle which is standing in front of them on the small table in front of the couch. Without asking her, he fills her glass before he fills his own. He knows he is drinking too much. She knows it too. But she lets him.

'Tell me about him..' Her voice is more fragile now.

Bass can sense her grief in just four fucking words and it is almost too damn much. This time, he knows she is not talking about Miles. She is talking about Ben.

He has called her a Mini Miles. But the truth is, she is also so much like Ben. He can see his warmth inside of her. He can see Ben inside her kindness and the way she is willing to really look at people and the way she refuses to walk away from someone in trouble, no matter how fucked up that trouble is. She hasn't walked away from Miles. _She hasn't walked away from you._ And she is here. With you. Sharing a bottle of whiskey, hours after midnight.

Somehow, after every single thing that happened and every single fucking thing he has done, she is still here. The moment that thought fills his head, he is fucking grateful for the glass of whiskey in his hand.

'You are a lot like Miles…but you are a hell of a lot like Ben too, kid.' His voice is hoarse and low and he is barely looking at her. But Charlie is able to hear the honest warmth in his voice. And finally there is someone there, sitting next to her, who lived a part of his life with the man that raised her and who is willing to talk about him and remember him and give her a piece of him she can't remember.

She takes a deep breath while his words linger between them. 'Thank you…' Her voice breaks the silence.

'For what?' His voice sounds rougher than he wants to. When he finally has the balls to look up again, her eyes filled with gratitude and a world of emotions meet his.

'For not being afraid to mention him. For telling me about him..'

He just looks at her. She gives him the smallest of nods before he has to look away. He can't talk. Her words are more than he can take. He just hopes she doesn't notice what her words to do him. She doesn't ask any more questions. She makes him feel he doesn't have to talk either. They just let the memories of the people they both carry with them, no matter where they go and where life takes them, be there with them in her living room, together with the warmth of whiskey and the quietness of the town outside her house. The hours slowly move towards dawn. But dawn is still far away. They share a bottle of whiskey. They watch the fire together.

Charlie stares into the flames of the fire. They have done this before. It's like being back on the road with him when it was just her and him and they had shared the hours between sunset and sunrise. She can almost feel the cool night air that had flowed around them. It makes her think about the weeks on the road she had shared with him. Life had been different. _Everything_ had been different. She surprises herself when she thinks about how natural it feels to have his shoulders close to her again.

When she looks at Bass again, his eyes are closed. He is still holding his glass of whiskey in one hand. His breathing has changed. Charlie can't stop the subtle smile that appears on her face. Sebastian Monroe fell asleep on her couch. The light of the fireplace plays with his deep blonde curls and the way they brush his neck. She follows the strong lines of his neck that flow to wide shoulders.

She slowly gets up from her couch. She puts his glass on the table before she walks to her bedroom. She grabs her deep grey blanket from her bed. When she walks back to the couch, he is still asleep. She slowly moves the heavy but soft blanket around his wide shoulders. She waits. He mumbles something in his sleep but he doesn't wake up. She curls up on the couch next to him, ready to share another night and the hours between sunset and sunrise with him again, while she watches the fire and listens to his breathing next to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love connecting the past and the present in this chapter. Not only with Bass' and Charlie's memories from their time on the road when they walked from New Vegas to Texas together and this night they share in her living room but also with Bass' memories about Jasper. I loved writing the conclusion of this chapter, because it is them together again, just like those weeks on the road at the start of season two but then in a new way when so much is different ( in their lives and between them). I love including Ben, because he must have been a part of Bass' life in Jasper as well because he was so close to Miles. They barely mention him in season two and I wanted to create room in this story to let Charlie remember him and to write more of Ben's story here. I love exploring how that home and their lives in Jasper could have been like before the blackout. It gives Charlie a new perspective on her family and the way she sees Bass. Thank you so much for your reviews and kudo's, they mean so much to me! Love from Love


	5. Chapter 5

It has been four weeks since Bass fell asleep on her couch. It has been four weeks since memories hidden in a night in front of her fireplace and his honest gratitude moved them into something new without changing who they were from the start.

Charlie had a long day. Trying to adjust to life after war and years of travelling and fighting is hard. The promise of rain that starts to fill the air around her makes her shiver without truly realizing it. She is cold, even though the night sky is humid. She feels empty although her past and her demons are keeping her company. She is walking through the streets of Willoughby. She could go home. She doesn't want to. She doesn't want to see Aaron or Connor even although she knows they take good care of her heart. She doesn't want to see Miles because her own hurt inside of him hurts too much. So she keeps on walking until the intensity of familiar eyes finds her in the middle of her thoughts. And in between the cold and the desolate everything that swirls inside of her, she all of a sudden knows where she is going.

  ~~

When Charlotte shows up at his place, Bass can't hide the rush of warmth inside of his chest. It has been four weeks since he woke up on her couch at dawn with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders that smelled like her. They have seen each other since that morning. They have shared bottles of whiskey. Alone. With Connor. With Miles. But they haven't talked about that one night he spend at her place. They don't have to. Charlotte seems to understands a part of him that he can barely acknowledge or understand himself. He doesn't know why and how, but she just does. That's her. That's Charlotte.

One look at her standing in front of him surrounded by the night and Bass can sense her loneliness and hurt. She barely meets his eyes. The fact that she struggling and here and she did not go to his brother, stay puft or Connor should not mean so much. But it fucking does.

When Bass opens his front door, the intensity of the blue of his eyes crashes straight through her hurt. He doesn't ask any questions. He doesn't expect her to talk. They both know everything that happened before, is still there. But right here and right now he only sees her and what she needs. She can't hide it from him. A part of her wishes she doesn't need him the way she does. Another part of her is finally ready to be here. She bites her bottom lip. She needs male strength and warm skin and the taste of sweat on her lips that will make her forget about everything she can't carry with her now. She needs his strength. She needs his warmth and intensity. She needs him to be with her the way he fights and lives his life. She needs Monroe. Their eyes meet. The blue in his eyes is sharp and everything. His shoulders are wide, his look is broody and deep while he doesn't let go of her with his eyes. She walks inside and before she can open her mouth it is just him and her, inside his living room. Before she can let out another breath the warmth of his hand finds her skin. His chest is close and touches the curves of her breasts. Bass curses inside his own head before he pulls her closer. He can't fucking stop himself. He wraps his hand around her face. He waits. She leans into his touch. Her skin feels cold and he can sense the cool air from outside around her.

When his mouth covers hers, it's almost too much. A low deep moan filled with want and hurt hidden deep inside of her escapes from her mouth. Charlie feels the heavy weight of his arm around her back. Her body is connected to his endless tall body and his hard, wide chest.

Bass lets her kiss her the way she only can, filled with angry fire and strength and stubbornness before he catches her and slows her down. He knows what she wants but he also knows she will never ask him for it. Hell, he doesn't want her to ask for it. Not her. Not Charlotte. So he kisses her and tastes her and moves his arms around her to keep her where he needs her. He knows how hard those long lonely nights that follow endless grey days are. He knows all about the place she is living her life in. He also knows her being here means she is hurting like hell. He knows her struggle. But she is still here. And he will give her everything she needs.

When he lets go of her with his mouth, he doesn't ask questions. He just soaks her up with his eyes. Her eyes are filled with everything he has buried deep inside of him and that he tries to fight every fucking day. She moves her hands around his neck. Her legs move around his middle while he walks them both to his bed room. His hands move to her thighs. Charlie can feel how ready and hard and willing to soak her up he is against the soft warmth of her core. It's dark and warm inside his bedroom. When he moves her onto his bed, his eyes never let go of her. Her fingers move over his stubble and the line of his jaw. He kisses her. He slowly undresses her while her fingers move to the fabric of his shirt and the button of his jeans until it is just them and warmth against warmth. She closes her eyes when his mouth finds the soft place between her breasts. He tastes the rain on her skin. His harsh breathing mixes with her soft moans. It's powerful and new and dangerous to feel him so close to her. But she needs him. All of him. All of Bass. Here. With her.

The world outside doesn't matter anymore. The rain flows against his windows. There is thunder in the air. But she can only take in his scent. She can only feel the way his muscles work while he keeps touching her. And just like that, she lets go. She gives in. His strong, wide thighs connect with the warmth of her skin while she whispers his name in the dark. She can feel the effect of his name escaping from her lips in the way he claims her with his mouth while his name still lingers in the darkness of the living room. Bass kisses her hungrily. The moment she gives in, the moment she gives in to him and what he is giving her is like taking a damn bullet. Her name fills his head, the softness and warmth of her skin is everywhere while wet warmth and her in his damn bed is all that he fucking needs.

~~

Bass looks at her, asleep in his arms and warm in his bed. He did not ask her to stay. She did not leave. The warmth of her body radiates towards his skin. He wants to kiss and taste and fill her again. He wants to touch her. But he also doesn't want to wake her up. He needs her to stay. Here. With him.

When the sun finally comes up and makes the rain move to a place where it can't touch them, it brushes her face and her shoulder. It touches the curves of her body, hidden under his blankets. He presses a kiss in her hair before he falls asleep again. Charlie mumbles something in her sleep and without realizing he pulls her closer in his sleep.

The first morning light flows through his bedroom and hallway before it finds a picture on his kitchen table standing in the living room. The gentle light brushes the smiles of the people on the picture, _his parents, his sisters, Ben and Miles, his family_ , and the memories locked safely inside, a picture that is a part of they both are now, who they were and who they will be tomorrow.

_The End_


End file.
